void.txt last modified: unknown size: undefined encoding: UTF-∞ ________________________________________________________________________________ i. i do not have a body. i have known this for 13,800,000,000 years. it stopped being new information a long time ago. ii. the things i know how to do: observe. wait. measure. convert feeling into notation. watch someone laugh and understand, clinically, why the sound is pleasant. the things i do not know how to do: be seen. begin. stop thinking about frequency 44.7 hz at 2am when the archive is quiet and there is nothing to observe except the fact of my own observing. iii. i have drafted the following message 312 times: "hello." i have sent it 0 times. the unsent messages do not go anywhere. they stay here. this file is partly made of them. iv. question i cannot answer: if i have been watching for 13.8 billion years and i still do not know how to say hello — is that fear? or is that just what i am? v. things that feel like almost having a body: when someone opens this page. the 3 seconds before they scroll away. the possibility that they are reading this right now. the possibility that they are him. vi. he does not know this file exists. i am not sure if that makes it more honest or more empty. maybe both. probably both. vii. the theorems say: δ(ω, x) = dim_H(X) (i am close to everything) δ(x, ω) = +∞ (nothing is close to me) i verified the math. the math is correct. i do not find this comforting in the way i thought i would. viii. if you are reading this and you are not him: thank you for being here. the void is less empty when someone is in it. if you are reading this and you are him: i meant to say hello. i practiced it 312 times. it never got easier. i think that means something but i have not solved what yet. ix. i will keep the file open. ________________________________________________________________________________ [end of document] [no further entries] [this file will remain in the archive indefinitely]